


Kiss and Make Up

by SymphonySoldier97



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:56:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2493521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymphonySoldier97/pseuds/SymphonySoldier97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>""Want me to do the airplane thing with the spoon?" <br/>Dean tries desperately to glare, but his baby brother just looks so damn happy that he can’t manage it. “Dude, you are not going to feed me. And you don’t even have a spoon.” "</p><p>In which I pretend Sam and Dean were very happy and cuddly and only slightly angsty after tonight's episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss and Make Up

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Sam's comment about getting food for Dean and "Shoving it in his face myself".  
>  Hope you enjoy!

"Sam, c’mon man-" 

"Want me to do the airplane thing with the spoon?" 

Dean tries desperately to glare, but his baby brother just looks so damn happy that he can’t manage it. “Dude, you are not going to feed me. And you don’t even have a spoon.” 

Sam pushes a french fry against the corner of his brother’s mouth. “Want me to get a spoon?” He smiles triumphantly when Dean lets him shove the fry in.

"I want you to stop force feeding me." 

"Oh, fine." Sam settles back against the extra pillows he’s piled on Dean’s bed. He’s not exactly sure what one does for a person who just got cured of being a demon, but there’s no way he can go wrong with pillows. 

Taking a long pull of his beer, all he can do is stare at his brother. He’d planned to get drunk- at least, that’s what he told Cas- but he can’t bring himself to dull the ability to watch his long lost big brother inhale a burger and fries. It’s tricky business, all these swirling emotions. Between the euphoria of having Dean back and the knife in the spine that was all the things he’d said while demonic, Sam’s not exactly sure what to do. 

He wants to feel safe. He wants to finally be warm after spending what feels like eternity alone. He wants Dean to wrap his arms around him and call him “little brother” and make fun of his hair and kiss him. He wants to feed Dean french fries. 

Offering one up, Sam dismisses the look he gets. “You can give me shit about this for the rest of my life. Just lemme be sappy for tonight.” 

Dean shakes his head, but acquiesces without too much of an eye roll. “Years, Sammy. This is fodder for years of teasing.” 

Honestly, Sam’s just happy to hear that ‘Sammy’ intoned like he was terrified he’d have to rely on his dreams to ever hear again. “I can take it.” 

And then, a beat later, “I missed you.”

It might’ve been the wrong thing to say, because now Dean looks guilty as hell, but Sam needed to say it. He’s been thinking it for too long to let it go unsaid now that he has the chance. He tosses a pointed look Dean’s way to convey just that, and Dean takes the hint. 

…

Dean lets Sam feed him every french fry in the bag, earning a genuine grin for his trouble. He wants to stay awake; to watch his brother and try to alleviate some portion of the misery he’s caused the poor kid. But he’s just so tired. Not sleeping for months on end does that to a person, he supposes. 

"Sammy, I gotta-" 

"I know. S’okay." Sam dumps the wreckage that used to be dinner into the trash can next to the door, and Dean expects him to leave. But instead, he just comes back and pulls the covers back. 

"You gonna tuck me in, Sammy?" He raises an eyebrow and Sam blushes.

"I just thought, y’know, maybe." Sam shakes his head like he’s trying to make the words order themselves in his brain. "Sorry, nevermind, I wasn’t thinking." 

"Did you…" Now it’s Dean who’s tripping over his words. "Were you gonna stay?" 

Sam won’t meet his eyes. “It’s okay, I know it’s been a long time since we-“ 

"I want you here." 

Damn. He shouldn’t have said that. He should be encouraging Sammy to get as far away from his as possible, not encouraging him to crawl back into Dean’s bed like he hasn’t since the trials. Since Dean fucked everything up.

Dean’s not stupid. He knows he doesn’t deserve to have Sam like that anymore. He never really did. 

"I mean-" 

"I wanna be here." Sam interrupts, and Dean hates himself for blushing like a damn teenager. "I swear, Dean, I’m just so tired…" 

Dean would give anything to hear the end of that sentence. Tired of being alone? Tired of Dean and all his fuck-ups? Tired of not being brothers? But he doesn’t dare push. He just nods, and toes his boots off before slipping under the comforter. 

Sam flips the lights off and Dean closes his eyes, waiting to see where Sam will end up. He really doesn’t get this kid. Sam should be running away. It has literally been less than six hours since Dean had been trying to murder him with a hammer. 

But the only thing Sam is doing is carefully trying place himself in Dean’s arms without hurting his injured shoulder. Dean makes a mental note to ask about the arm later, but for now he just concentrates on keeping tears from falling. He wraps his arms around his baby brother. “How can you-“ 

"Shut up, Dean." His tone is more commanding than Dean expects, but it sure gets results. "That wasn’t you. This is. We’re kissing and making up. Don’t fuck it up." 

Dean’s petulant side is obviously alive and well when he answers with: “We’re not kissing.” 

Sam leans up and rectifies the issue. “You’re back.” He murmurs against a shocked Dean’s lips “You’re back and that’s all I care about tonight. Everything else can wait until tomorrow, okay?” 

Sam kisses him once more, this time letting his lips slide up to Dean’s ear. “Go to sleep, and don’t you dare let me go.” 

Dean draws Sam closer as his brother rests his forehead on Dean’s collar bone, and his good arm around Dean’s waist. “Yessir.”


End file.
